


aware.

by mysteryguest



Series: Self-Aware Luigi [1]
Category: Luigi's Mansion (Video Games), Super Mario & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Dissociate, Dissociation, Gen, Lowercase, dereality, dissociating, self-aware, self-aware luigi, self-aware luigi au, self-awareness, unreality
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-05-23
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:01:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24317758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysteryguest/pseuds/mysteryguest
Summary: there's something 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨. so completely and utterly wrong, and the more he thinks about it the more the world around him slips away.it slips away, and even still he goes on.it slips away, but then he finds there's someone watching him.𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 with him- no, playing 𝘢𝘴 him. and suddenly the horrors inside the ghostly hotel don't seem as scary anymore.he sees it. he 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴 it.he turns around, and gazes blankly into thin air.no, into the 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯.
Series: Self-Aware Luigi [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1755547
Comments: 10
Kudos: 50





	aware.

**Author's Note:**

> tw for topics/descriptions of dereality/unreality!! proceed with caution please!!!  
> i love you all, thank you for reading c:

\---

it's the nonsensical flapping of the curtains he vacuums up upon the wall that sets it off.

if he were to pinpoint one precise moment where the strange, overwhelming sense of absolute awareness began.

it swings to the right, only to snap back into place suddenly and out of nowhere.

it was strange, but oh well, luigi thinks to himself. lots of things were strange when you were trapped in a haunted hotel- he ignored it the best he could, and moved onward in the dusty halls.

  
  


~~_ (he couldn't ignore nearly as much as he'd hoped.) _ ~~

  
  


he fights another ghost or two, and of course he's cowering and stilling his shaking hands by the time the fight's all done, and all he can think about is why.

why is he so _afraid_?

the more he thinks about it, the more he realizes how strange it is that his fear of ghosts only came about the day before he had gone to his falsely-won mansion.

he thinks about a lot- too much, in fact- and that's when he decides something is seriously _wrong_.

it wasn't so much that he was realizing the strangeness surrounding both himself and his world, but rather that he hadn't realized until just now.

perhaps it was best if he just stopped thinking about it, and started thinking about getting to the top level of the hotel to save everyone.

ignorance is bliss, he supposes.

maybe the saying was more true than he'd previously given thought to.

  
  


\---

  
  


something is wrong.

something is sickeningly _wrong_ , and luigi can't quite understand what it is.

it's the way he notices that the ghosts follow a basic line of actions, only acting otherwise in certain rooms or halls.

it's the way he notices that he just knows what helen gravely is up to, how he suddenly just knows that king boo took the portrait of peach, that helen covers her true face in makeup.

he doesn't realize it per se, but it's in the back of his mind.

~~_ (like it's not supposed to be there in the first place.) _ ~~

and then he thinks about how everything seems so straightforward, so _simplified_ , so... programmed.

  
  


that's when he freezes in place; when a feeling of absolute dread overtakes him.

  
  


a game.

it was all a _game_.

his life, his existence, his feelings, his actions, his beliefs, his fears, _all of it was programmed._

  
  


suddenly, the haunted mansion didn't seem so scary anymore.

  
  


not in comparison to the world as he knew it slowly falling apart around him.

not in comparison to the feeling of mindlessness that overtakes him as a felling of dread overtakes him.

he wishes he could retch into a trashcan, anything to ease the nausea- he quickly finds out he's incapable of doing so.

  
  


he's not _programmed_ to do so.

  
  


a ghost pops up behind him in an attempt to frighten him- he turns around, and then the _ghost_ begins to look scared.

maybe it's the hazy, depressive state he's fallen into that sets the ghost off-guard.

his body moves on its own, and when he slams the ghost into the carpet once, twice, and thrice, he has a distinct feeling in the back of his mind of pressing a button over and over.

he chokes back a scream.

nothing is real anymore.

it never was real.

  
  
  


\---

  
  


get exposed to unreality for long enough, and it turns out the unreality becomes real enough for you.

he gets a few hours of peace here and there, and spends his time free from the suffocating lack of control hiding away in the corner of a room.

he looks closely at himself and notices that he doesn't know what his own hands look like, not underneath the gloves.

he notices that he doesn't feel cold. he doesn't feel warm, either.

  
  


but then he does.

but then he makes it so he can.

but then he fills in every aspect of himself that he's missing.

  
  


and then he turns around and he laughs in the face of a ghost.

what use is there to fear ghosts and ghouls and boos when they don't even exist?

he looks at himself once more and stills.

  
  


he's the only real person in _this_ world.

  
  


but in another world, everyone is real.

in another world, this is the world that's fake, and he wants to go _there_.

  
  


he wants to be surrounded by all that is _real_.

  
  


ignorance is bliss, he reminds himself.

he doesn't think about the unreality surrounding him any more than he has to.

  
  


the feeling of being controlled returns, and he grits his teeth and fights against it.

he stops.

he _turns_.

he stares into thin air.

  
  


no, he stares into the _screen_.

  
  


he knows you're there.

he sees the screen, he sees your reality.

  
  


_ i see you. _

\---


End file.
